


All The Rain Comes Down The Same

by Animated_Astromancer, F1nch, JustAGirlWhoTriesToWrite



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), the adventure zone commitment
Genre: Blind! Deaf! and Sorta Mute! Nadiya, Drowning, F/F, F1nch's gross misuse of commas, Gore, It's not mild, M!A answers, Nadiya Jones is NOT alright, Nadiya Jones is melodramatic and so am I, Nightmares, Originally an RP, Panic, Panic Attacks, RP logs, The good KUSH, angst out the ass, as a podcast within the commitment universe, blame Addy, gross misunderstanding of why is fam canon, hurt/ comfort, mentions of the adventure zone, not F1nch, seriously you could've put a period there and made it telegraphic, some gore, this is almost purely angst and i will not apologize, why is fam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animated_Astromancer/pseuds/Animated_Astromancer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1nch/pseuds/F1nch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAGirlWhoTriesToWrite/pseuds/JustAGirlWhoTriesToWrite
Summary: Nadiya Jones is working through another science project when shit turns sideways. All she knows is that she can't see, can't hear, can't talk. And she is afraid.





	1. Panic

Nadiya Jones sighs, going through her inbox. More anonymous hate. She may be a bitch, but she still has feelings. As she is about to give this anon a piece of her mind, her vision dims and the soft clicks of her typing fade. She feels her throat going dry, and is startled when she clears it without making a single sound. And suddenly, blackness, accompanied by the whispers of the cruelest and most primal corners of her mind;

( _ Where am I - I can’t see - I can’t hear - where am I - Am I alone - I’m going to die - ALONE - ALONE - ALONE - _ ) 

Nadiya Jones falls off what she assumes to still be her chair, blinded, deafened, and muted. She is not sure if her location has changed. She knows two things. She cannot see, and she cannot speak.

( _ I need to get to somewhere where I can feel my way along things _ )

Thinking quickly, she drops to all fours, searching with her hands for a wall, and scuttling into the furthest corner of her lab. She knows two things. She is vulnerable, and she is alone.

 

Mary was used to the lab being mostly silent. Sure, sometimes it would light with the whirring of machines or a few muffled swears, but, for the most part, it was silent.

She was hardly listening to her surroundings when she heard the crash. Solid, purposeful. Not like a beaker being knocked off a shelf.

She tried to ignore it but found herself unable to. It wasn’t a piece of equipment breaking, and if Nadiya had fallen, she was sure she would hear the creak of the floor as she got back up again.

With a grumble, Mary left the storage room and went upstairs to investigate.

 

Nadiya Jones, a young scientist, had always been the most down to earth person you would ever have the misfortune of meeting. She was level, cool, uncaring, and most would say cold. She did not cry, even as a child. She knew that her tears would be pointless. Whenever her father told her to pack up her things, she knew that he could not afford to have her argue. Her father worked for the military, and, in her own way, so did she. She learned to be detached from one of the best and brightest, and everything else from her tutors and from observing her father’s colleagues. She was a woman of science, a Spock-like  _ Data- _ like individual who  _ did not  _ cry,  _ did not  _ panic ,  _ did not _ get attached. 

Now? Well, the emphasis of these descriptions was on the word  _ was _ . Through no fault of her own, she’d grown attached. Soft.  _ Feeling _ . 

She hated it with nearly every fiber of her being.

Nadiya Jones, a proud young scientist, doesn’t know how to ask for help. Doesn’t know when to quit. Doesn’t know how to talk. Doesn’t know how to feel, to the point of pretending not to.

At this moment though, in her moment of loneliness and uncertainty, she is damn terrified, and that’s  _ all _ she knows how to do.

 

The silence from the lab is, odd. Off-putting, almost, in the same way as her parents silence every time she asked how the trial was going. There was supposed to be noise, footsteps, muttered curses. Now there was just, silence.

Mary stood at the end of the hallway, apprehensive. She knew that the door embedded in one side of the hall led to the lab, the exact place she never wanted to be if she could help it.

But, something was wrong. It wasn’t just the silence. The feeling of uncertainty hung thick in the air, almost palpable.

She made her way to the door, not bothering to knock. Her hair raised slightly as she manipulated the mechanisms in the door till it clicked open.

 

Nadiya Jones knows how to panic. She doesn’t do it particularly often, especially not since she was a preteen, but she knows.

When she finds the corner, she instantly puts her back up to it, pulls her knees to her body, hugs them, and starts rocking. She doesn’t even try to make a sound (though she suspects that she wouldn’t be able to anyway) and instead just tries to breathe as evenly as possible. She doesn’t know if she is still in her lab or not, and frankly, if she were to be in any hostile situation in  _ this  _ sorry state, it would not end well. So she does her best to make herself small and calm down, unsure of how long this would last if it ever ends at all. 

She is small, she is scared, she is alone.

 

Mary has seen Nadiya pissed before, well, that seemed to be her default state of being, but she couldn’t recount a time when she saw her  _ afraid _ .

Well, now she could.

She understood fear, panic especially. When everything built up to the point when you mentally couldn’t handle it for another moment. Yeah, she was familiar with that feeling.

Though, she didn’t truly know, what to do? She couldn’t see anything wrong, the lab seemed to be in order, nothing broken or damaged.

“Nnnadiya?” She spoke, but, upon getting no response, approached her.

Hesitantly, Mary sat so she was next to Nadiya, but maybe a foot or so away.

 

Nadiya Jones can feel the footsteps of someone drawing closer and closer. She doesn’t know if the approaching individual is friend or foe, so she whispers out as best she can in a (regrettably) shakey little voice: 

“wh-who who’s there?”

She may be scared, but she’s determined not to cry. She inhales unsteadily and tries again.

“who are you?”

She can’t hear herself, but she also cannot feel her vocal folds moving like they should. She pulls her knees closer to her body and buries her head. 

( _ Let them do whatever. Let them kill me. I really don’t care anymore, just let it be over quickly. _ )

Nadiya Jones can no longer feel the footsteps hitting the floor. She either hasn’t been noticed or they’re getting ready to do something to her.

.

.

.

Nadiya Jones accepts her fate.

Mary was, slightly taken aback by the question. Didn’t Nadiya know who she was? Had her sight gotten fucked as the result of some experiment gone wrong?

“Uh, it’s, Mary.” She spoke. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this. This person wasn’t her friend. For all she knew this was some fucked up trap. But, helping her just, felt, right, for some reason.

Gently, she placed her hand on Nadiya’s arm.

 

As soon as the hand brushes the hairs on Nadiya’s arm, she jumps and tries to pull further into herself. She wasn’t expecting the touch, and she was never a fan of being touched, to begin with. She scoots backward into her corner as best and fast as she can, trying to get away from her assailant. 

Tears are welling in her eyes, open but unseeing, as her back presses firmly to the wall. She’s sure she’s trembling, but at this point, she’s too afraid to worry about trivial things such as that. She blinks her eyes, and the tears start their path down her face, and she mouths

“Make it quick.”

as she looks up to where she assumes her attacker is standing. She shuts her eyes again, this time squeezing them and keeping them closed as she braces for-

a blade, 

or a strike, 

or  _ something.  _

_ Anything.  _

But nothing happens. Unless, of course, you count the fact that she has started to cry even harder, breath coming in hiccupy gasps, her whole body shuddering.

But the blow doesn’t come. She wants it to come, hates being on this edge, wants it to just  _ stop _ . But it doesn’t. They’re playing with her. Going to strike when she least expects it. 

She hates waiting.

 

When Nadiya flinched away, Mary did the same. Something was wrong. Something was  _ very very wrong _ . This was far more than an experiment gone wrong.

She didn’t know what to do. She had never had to calm someone like this down before. Well, she had never succeeded.

“Nad,” she spoke. She had heard Remy use that nickname, she was sure, “Nad, Nad. I’m not going to hurt you, Nad.”

If physical touch wasn’t working, what, could she do? She couldn’t think of an object that would help her calm down. Without sight, and, if words weren’t working, what could she do to prove it was her? Or, let Nadiya know she wasn’t, an enemy?

She took control of, something, maybe a computer, she wasn’t sure. She manipulated it, just slightly, just enough to make her hair begin to rise.

 

Nadiya’s trying desperately to regain her composure (she wants to go bravely, just like her father would want) when she first tastes it. The air in the room seems to crackle slightly and the smell of ozone fills her nostrils. 

Electricity.

A very painful way to go. But, she muses; Quicker than, say, blood loss. 

She hopes that it’s quick. Electricity can also be slower and much more painful than blood loss. Hopefully, they don’t know what they’re doing and she goes early on, but… She doubts herself to be that lucky. 

Maybe if she were to goad them into anger and overexertion of the electricity, they’d get angry and kill her before hurting her too much. She just hopes that none of her team is nearby. They’d try to (nobly) get involved and end up getting hurt, and she didn’t want to have to deal with that. 

She takes a deep, calming breath and pleads again.

“Please make it quick. I don’t have anything you need.”

She wipes her eyes with her hand underneath her glasses and slowly stands. 

“Do it,”  She mouths.  “Do it. Do it. Do it.”

She chants it like some sort of prayer, as if it could atone for all that she has done and had done to others and had the capacity to do.

And she closes her eyes for the final time.

 

Mary didn’t understand the pity, the worry, she felt for Nadiya. This woman was supposed to be her enemy, the one trying to fucking experiment on her, but, some instinct she couldn’t explain told her that she needed to help.

If that didn’t work, then, what was there to do? 

She stood up as well, slowly, trying to make little noise, but just enough that Nadiya could sense that she was moving.

She shut off the computer immediately, looking for, something. Something that could move. Just, something.

Had Nadiya gotten another Roomba?

She didn’t know why turning the Roomba on and controlling it felt so, familiar, so  _ right _ , but she didn’t question it. She made the small robot whir up to Nadiya. What could be threatening about a Roomba?

 

As Nadiya waits in silence, she thinks about death. Gandy had mentioned Michael, and Nadiya could assume that Kravitz would exist in the podcast reality, but she has no idea what sort of being she could possibly expect to come and collect her soul. She has never put much stock in such stories, but she hopes that whatever there is doesn’t mind too much.

This particular train of thought is interrupted by the feeling of what seems to be plastic hitting her ankles. She sinks to her knees and scrabbles around for the offender. It’s Lawrence, her lab Roomba. She can feel the ridges of the sequins that Christopher had glued on, grateful now for the defining feature. She reaches down to turn it off. She’s in her lab. She starts crying again, this time in what seems to be relief, and maybe just a touch of hysteria. She wraps her arms around her torso in a pseudo-hug, her shoulders visibly shaking as she half cries, half laughs, half gasps for air, all silent as a thought.

_ I’m such a fucking mess _ , she thinks to herself amusedly.

Her bewildered smile drops from her face with another fresh stream of tears. Being murdered in her own home would mean that Remy or Kardala would go after the killer. She knows she’s not worth that much. They can’t get hurt because of her.

“Leave my friends alone. Kill me if you wish, but for the love of god, don’t touch them.”

That’s about all she can do for her situation, she recognizes that she is utterly at the intruder’s mercy. She casts her unseeing eyes upwards and gently but urgently prays; _L_ _ et them live without me. I’m not worth any sort of vengeance, let this end here. Please. _

 

Mary didn’t cry. She had cried plenty in the labs, but, maybe after a week or so of that hell, she had run out of tears. Or, well, energy to cry any more.

She knew she wasn’t in the lab anymore. At least not Litti and Lucas’s lab. But, still, she couldn’t cry. 

That didn’t stop her throat from closing up as if she were, though.

Nadiya thought she was going to die, and, her last wish was for her friends to be safe. That was a side of Nadiya she had never seen before. But she had. She  _ knew  _ she had. She remembered something with a gym, and Nadiya abandoning an experiment to find, someone. A friend. And Jamie had helped.

Her hair raised like the dancing flames of a humble campfire as she turned the Roomba back on, making it bump into Nadiya’s leg like an insistent cat.

 

Nadiya Jones feels the plastic and jerky bump of her favorite appliance again, interrupting her string of ( _ please let them live I’m not worth the trouble let them be okay _ )s. She picks it up, and just… cradles it. She’s just waiting. Waiting to see how this will all play out, waiting to see how long it will take her to die.

She hugs it as she shifts back into a criss-cross-applesauce position. It is her anchor, her grounding point as she waits for something.

_Anything_.

Everything.

_Nothing_.

Her crying seems to have abated, and now she just calmly sits, cradling this robotic vacuum, feeling every part and piece with her fingers. 

“You’re not exactly the quickest person I’ve met who’s wanted to kill me,”

She tries to say. But it comes out all wrong, not that she can hear it. It’s raspy and breathy, and she gets distracted by how it feels in her mouth, so it comes out more like:

“Yr t th qukst – psn t wh’s – td t k”

Her vocal folds refuse to vibrate, and it frustrates her to no end, not being able to communicate, not being able to see, not being able to  _ hear _ even. And she pulls back to her corner with Lawrence, cowering from the rest of the room and breathing shakily. 

 

Mary wasn’t sure what to do. She was calmer, now, at least. Mary knew from experience how helpful grounding objects were.

She, sat down, slowly, next to Nadiya, but a foot away, so they weren’t touching. Some odd instinct she couldn’t explain told her not to touch Nadiya, but, she didn’t see what else she could do.

Gently, calmly, she placed her hand in Nadiya’s hair, brushing her fingers through it. Maybe this would show her that she meant no harm?

 

Nadiya freezes as she feels delicate, thin fingers in her hair, moving through it in a way that is obviously meant to be… Soothing? She reaches up to wipe her eyes again, and the hand stops tentatively, as if she is some sort of skittish animal. 

She wipes her eyes and sniffles, not really meaning to be loud about it, but she also has no sense of her noise levels whatsoever. She returns her hand to its approximate spot on Lawrence, and the hand starts its stroking again. She feels the crests and valleys of the glue on its surface with her thumbs, focusing on her breathing; In, 2, 3, Out, 2, 3.

Closing her eyes (they were useless anyway) so they wouldn’t dry out, she reaches up and carefully, shakily, cautiously grabs onto the hand in her hair, which jerks and stops petting her immediately, as if it cared about her.

That thought made Nadiya chuckle. She’s imagining things for sure.

Nadiya grabs this cold, slender hand and wraps her thumb and forefinger around the wrist of it. It tenses more, and she almost jerks her hand completely away before it relaxes again, as if encouraging her. She rubs her thumb along the arteries of the wrist, leaning her head into its touch, and it relaxes completely, starting to gently shift through her hair again.

“Are you going to kill me?”

She asks in her small broken voice. She doesn’t think so, not now, but life is full of surprises.

 

Mary knows she should be pulling her hand away. Pulling it away and running like hell, but, the normal anxiety she felt whenever someone touched her was, oddly vacant.

She keeps gently moving her hand through Nadiya’s hair, stopping when she sniffled, but starting right back up again when she was done.

She was quite sure she wouldn’t be able to hear her, but, regardless, she spoke in a quiet, soft tone:

“Of course not. You’re,” she hesitated, “my friend.”

 

Nadiya Jones may not be able to hear, but as she asks her fate of this odd stranger, she feels the rumble of a reply. Two replies, seemingly, by the way the rumble was broken up. She doesn’t know what was said, but from the way that the hand in her hair keeps gliding, it seems like there is no hostile intent.

Nadiya Jones scoots closer to her company. They flinch, and she instantly starts scooting herself back, but they wrap their other arm around her waist. It’s Nadiya’s turn to flinch, and she goes to struggle against the hold, but they seem to have caught on because they remove their hand from her hip almost immediately. They’re scared to make her uncomfortable. They… Don’t want her to leave. 

Nadiya Jones can feel them start to hum in what she’s sure is intended to be a soothing manner. She appreciates the gesture, even though she cannot hear what they are humming herself.

She leans on them, feeling their hair tickle her shoulders as she settles in. The hand in her hair stops, unsure as to if it should keep going, before resuming yet again.

Nadiya chuckles in an exhale-through-your-nose kind of way.

“Skittish, aren’t you?”

She allows the smallest slip of a smile to decorate her face as she breathes deeply, letting herself start to relax for what feels like the first time in four months.

 

Though Mary couldn’t seem to shake the tenseness in her shoulders that she knew was brought on by the physical contact, it- didn’t make her at all uncomfortable. In fact, it was kind of, nice, oddly enough.

She cleared her mind of thoughts of traps and ruses, or, did her best to, as she placed her hand back in Nadiya’s hair, absentmindedly stroking it. Her hair was soft. Her mind told her she knew that already, though she wasn’t sure how.

Despite the fact that, somehow, she felt, relaxed, something told her that she needed to be, listening, watching out for, something.

So, she let Nadiya lean into her arms, and pricked her ears to the silence. It was, odd. There was no danger, none that she could sense, anyway. But, somehow, watching just felt, normal. Like it was something was she supposed to do.

 

Nadiya Jones, scientist/superhero, sets Lawrence down as gently as she can and leans all the way over into her companion’s lap, her eyes closed and her face still streaked with the lanes down which her tears had traveled.

She puts her hand on their knee and begins rubbing it soothingly with her thumb before yawning, tears pricking easily at the corners of her eyes. She stretches her legs out to the side and lays her head on top of her arm, the hand in her hair now moving to massage her scalp.

Nadiya Jones, the genius biochemist, is at peace, (for now) and it feels damn amazing.

Her last thought before she drifts off to sleep is… Inconsequential, but for some reason, it’s about Mary, of all people.

 

For some reason, when Nadiya fell asleep on her, she was reminded of, Jamie, for some reason.

She continued to stroke her hair, twirling some strands between her fingers. She knew she could just push her off to the floor, but, that didn’t feel right.

She ended up resting her hand on the back of her head, stroking gently with her thumb. When Nadiya fell asleep, she felt that she should be relaxing, but, no, her mind told her she was supposed to be listening.

 

 


	2. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gore, blood, overt lesbianism, eldritch horrors, drowning, GORE  
> It's a nightmare sequence, folks!

Nadiya Jones is soaked in blood. 

Nadiya Jones is soaked in blood, and it’s  _not_  hers. 

Nadiya Jones is kneeling in a puddle of crimson, pressing as hard as she can on a gash in Remy’s neck. He’s choking on his own blood, looking into her eyes but not seeing her. She’s pushing as hard as she can, trying to stop the flow, but to no avail. The last thing he says before he dies is “You could’ve stopped it- why didn’t you-”

Nadiya Jones is standing in an alley, her hand a hammer.

Nadiya Jones is standing over the limp and bloody form of Irene Baker, whose head has been bashed in. Irene’s tiny frame is curled into a little ball, and there are tears streaking down her face and scarlet gushing out of her head.

The alley fills, becoming a river of blood.

Nadiya Jones is drowning, the sound of Irene  _begging and pleading_  for her mercy filling her ears to the brim.

Nadiya Jones opens her eyes. She’s underwater. She tries to swim up for air, but a cold, stiff, slimy hand grasps her ankle and won’t let go.

Nadiya Jones looks down, and the asphyxiated face of Kardala looks back.

 _Join me_ , she seems to say.  _Join me. Why should you live when our lives are far more valuable than your own?_

Nadiya Jones is on the edge of a building. She recognizes the skyline, she’s in Seattle, where she was born. Nadiya Jones turns around and sees the broken, lifeless form of Mary Sage. She just jumped from the building on top of Nadiya’s own. Nadiya rushes to Mary’s side and takes her hand in her own. Mary Sage’s eyes spring open and her hand rushes to Nadiya’s throat.

 _Join me._  She seems to say, a grotesque smile growing on and consuming her lips.  _We can be free together._  

Nadiya Jones wants to accept, but her mouth won’t find the words. She shakes her head, though every fiber of her being wants to nod, and Mary’s thumb presses somehow harder into her windpipe.

Nadiya Jones kisses her anyways, vision dimming as she does.

(In the real world, Nadiya’s brow creases as she starts to shiver like a leaf.)

Nadiya Jones is on the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by water. All she has to do is take off her helmet. It’s so simple. Take it off.  _Take it off._

Nadiya Jones is crying out of frustration as she watches her friends and family float on blue balloons into the sky. She too has a balloon, but as she jumps to meet them she only seems to fall further down. 

Wait for me, she cries. I am on my way. But they do not hear her.

Nadiya Jones is alone.

Nadiya Jones cannot follow.

 

* * *

 

 

Mary Sage is familiar with nightmares. She couldn’t count the times she had woken up in a cold sweat, whether it was in her dorm at the fellowship, or in the labs, or, in some, room that only half-existed in her mind. They had become normal, just another shitty part of day to day life. When Mary had a nightmare, it was no big deal, as long as she didn’t blow something up accidentally.

Nadiya was a different case.

Her nightmares were- different than Mary’s. Mary would always find herself waking up, shaking, bedsheets strewn everywhere, her mind convinced of some unknown danger that she was desperate to find.

Nadiya just- shook.

Her brow creased and fists clenched and unclenched, and her breaths would turn to heaving, then back again. She had been, afraid of her, before, but now, like this, she seemed so  _small._

Her gentle strokes of Nadiya’s hair turned quicker, more anxious. She didn’t know what to do. Were you supposed to wake someone up when they had a nightmare? She couldn’t remember.

Did it matter, though? Nadiya was scared. That much was obvious.

She shook her, lightly, not meaning to terrify once she was awake too. 

 

* * *

 

 

Nadiya Jones’s helmet has sprung a leak, and the oil is oozing and gushing in, between the spider web cracks in the glass, filling her nose, eyes, lungs, throat. 

Nadiya Jones is freezing to death, floating somewhere in the vacuum of space, the tentacles of an ancient eldritch being both cradling and strangling her. Her breath crystalizes as she loses it. Her eyes frost over slowly. The monstrosity’s whispers turn to brain melting shrieks in a tongue lost before time.

Nadiya Jones is being buried alive. Irene is laughing cruelly as Chris throws dirt over her squirming, writhing body. Hands grab her as the last shovelful of dirt is dropped, dragging her further underground. 

Nadiya Jones is being kissed, slowly and tenderly, as Mary Sage pulls her heart out of her chest and smiles sadly. Mary Sage makes eye contact as she takes a bite of it, like a child eating an apple.

Nadiya Jones is being sewn back together by some unknown force, begging and pleading to be left alone, to die, to stop feeling. There is only hateful, spiteful laughter. The final stitch is completed, and she sees herself, dressed up and sewn together and standing on a pedestal, as a voice says:

“My perfect little ragdoll. It’ll be so much  _fun_  to tear you up again. You know it’s what I made you for.”

No, she pleads. Please don’t. 

The voice just cackles, and Nadiya feels a terrible pain, like all of her limbs are being dislocated at once, and hears a terrible tearing sound as her vision goes white.

(Nadiya would be screaming if she had a voice right now, here in the real world.)

Nadiya Jones is being fed lava, her throat is on fire, she is dying, the heat is sweltering, blistering, overwhelming.

Please stop.

Please make it stop.

Please

Please

_Please_

**_Please_ **

(please.)

 

* * *

 

 

Who cared whether you were supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare or not.

She pulled Nadiya further onto her lap, holding her to her chest, and just, shaking. Not violently. This wasn’t an enemy. Just, she needed to wake up, now!

This was, her friend. The friend who had trusted her, who had helped her calm when she panicked, who had reassured her that Martine was gone, that no one was going to hurt her. She didn’t remember any of these things happening, but they  _did._

Nadiya may not have been friendly, but she was her friend.

 

* * *

 

 

Nadiya Jones is trapped in an earthquake, rubble and debris falling all around her. Everything is shaking. She is pinned by a steel beam. 

She knows she’s not going to make it.

Nadiya Jones’ parachute won’t open. She’s falling alone and in the dark, and her parachute won’t open. She’s going to die alone.

She knows she’s not going to make it.

Nadiya Jones is a little girl in a very big supermarket. The fluorescent lights flicker and go out, and she is alone. All around her are glow in the dark eyes and teeth, monstrous grins widening to reveal sharper and sharper canines. She can feel someone breathing on her neck.

When she turns around, there’s nothing there.

She knows she’s not going to make it.

And then

Suddenly

Nadiya Jones is awake, gasping for air with tears streaming down the paths she’d laid prior on her face. She is being shaken. She cannot see, she cannot hear. 

She doesn’t think she’s going to make it.

But god damn it, she’s not going to go down without a fight.


	3. Awakening

 

Mary knew fear.

She knew instinct. The fight or flight response flaring up and immediately selecting fight. It wasn’t planned or even close to thought out, and that’s what made it so dangerous, and effective.

She had been prepared to calm Nadiya down from her nightmare, but, when she lashed out, she was taken aback.

She didn’t want to fight Nadiya, not again.

This time, though, there was more at stake than being forced back to the Fellowship.

This time, she  _had_  to win. If she didn’t, god, Nadiya would panic and hurt herself.

After getting past the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around Nadiya’s chest, attempting to pull her towards herself.

 

Nadiya Jones can’t see, can’t hear. She feels herself being pulled into someone’s embrace as she struggles to get her attacker to let go of her wrists. 

But instead of being eaten, or crushed, or stabbed, or choked, she is being hugged. 

Nadiya Jones does not understand. Nadiya Jones is bawling, shaking in someone’s arms as she waits for them to kill her. Instead, their hand is rubbing comforting circles into the small of her back.

Nadiya Jones braces for some sort of impact. 

It never arrives. She’s safe.

She weeps harder in this stranger’s arms. She’s grateful she can’t see how much of a mess she is.

Nadiya Jones returns the hug.

 

Mary felt her breathing calm almost immediately as Nadiya relaxed in her arms. 

She kept one arm around her, though she loosened her grip, giving her a reassuring hug instead of holding her down.

She took the other hand, stroking through Nadiya’s soft hair, making sure to be as gentle as she could.

 

Nadiya Jones is shaking like a hummingbird on Redbull, shuddering, trembling. Terrified. Disoriented. She hugs the stranger harder as if she is clinging to a lifeline. As if she can somehow absorb the physical affection.

Nadiya Jones turns her teary face towards Mary’s and whispers a broken semblance of  

“thank you”

over and over like a mantra. Like she’s imbuing all of her energy into this embrace.

Into Mary.

She is no longer alone, for now.

Nadiya Jones pulls Mary Sage impossibly closer as if she’ll dissolve like sugar in her grasp. 

 

Mary’s mind flashed with images of Kardala, infuriated, and Nadiya, gaunt and, frightening. Images of lightning and the vague echoes of shouting. That had all happened at night, she knew that. Or, was it morning? Something told her morning, but the darkness outside told her night.

This was right. This was what Mary was supposed to be doing. Sure, it might be some mind trick, some false memory, but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that Nadiya was safe.

She rubbed circles into her back a few more times before trying to help her to her feet. She didn’t need some unexplainable instinct to tell her that what Nadiya needed to was to get to her room.

 

Nadiya Jones’ arms are around Mary’s neck when she is lifted. A moment of panic comes and goes, as she feels herself being carried somewhere new.

Nadiya Jones is too tired to care, not falling asleep, but instead just resting her head on the shoulder of her companion and sighing. She has to trust that they don’t want to hurt her at this point. 

Nadiya Jones is weary and confused when she is dropped onto a mattress. She tries to roll off the bed but is rolled right back and given a reassuring squeeze by her mystery comforter, who drops onto the bed beside her. Nadiya Jones doesn’t complain when she is pulled back into the hug, she just cranes her head back and gives them a forlorn smile.

 

Mary wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing when she dropped onto the bed beside Nadiya. Surely it would just leave her more vulnerable. Still, it felt, right.

So she did. She kept her ears pricked for any sound that could spell danger, but let Nadiya lean into her embrace.

She didn’t recognize this room, but for some reason it made her think of Mario kart, and Remy stealing a laptop.

 

Nadiya Jones leans as far back into her anonymous benefactor as she dares, finding their wrists with her hands and gently pulls them down, more toward her belly than her heart.

“Thank you,”

She tries to say. But it comes out wrong again. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Always wrong. 

Nadiya Jones doesn’t want to sleep. She doesn’t want to go back to the dreams. They always hurt, and she always remembers every excruciating detail. She knows, logically, that she would never hurt any of her friends, but there was always the fear of doing something wrong. Saying something wrong. Of fucking up, again.

Nadiya Jones doesn’t want to fuck this up, but she knows she’ll probably find a way to.

 

Mary rolled over in bed so that she was facing Nadiya. She gently placed her hand on Nadiya’s face, brushing her thumb over the tear tracks running down her face.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Take care of her? She didn’t know how to do that. But it seemed that she needed to.

 

Nadiya Jones can feel those delicate fingers on her face, wiping at where she’s been (disgustingly) crying. She’s grateful that she has no idea how she looks. She’s probably unmitigatedly horrifying.

She focuses on her breathing again, feeling her body expand and contract every few seconds. 

All she can really do is breathe. 

And wait.

And feel.

Nadiya Jones is bored, but calm too.

Maybe she could get used to this.

She knows she needs to figure out how to regain her sight, but she’s just so damn tired. Maybe it can wait- she hadn’t exactly slept last night. Like, at all. Nadiya Jones was too busy to sleep. She’s always too busy. She makes sure of it. Nadiya Jones doesn’t sleep for a reason, but right now? She feels herself slipping again. 

She fights it.

She fights it. She can’t watch her friends die again, even if it’s not real. It feels real. Eerily so. She hates how real it is. She hates how she remembers. How she can feel it when her lungs fill with water, or fire, (or blood.) She hates it because she knows it’s not real, but can never remember that crucial fact when she sleeps. 

Nadiya Jones is scared of the dark.

 

Mary rubbed her hand back and forth across Nadiya’s back, slowly, gently.

Holding her like this, she felt so  _small_. She could almost feel her bones beneath her skin. So  _thin_ , so  _small_.

This is the woman she had been terrified of. The woman who had helped bring down the Goliath. The _Scientist_.

She was so small. So scared.

Mary began to hum.

 

Nadiya Jones feels the buzz of a comforting hum pressing against her back, accompanied by a safe and soothing warmth. She doesn’t want to sleep, but she finds that she can no longer fight it either. Her eyes are heavy and she is so tired. 

She feels herself slipping away, against her own wishes. This time, however, it’s different. Warm. Peaceful. She is at ease, safe from the torrent that she tries desperately to stay awake and away from. She is floating this time, in the stead of drowning.

Safe. Warm. Calm. Shh.

The reassuring stroke of her companion’s hand on her body eases Nadiya Jones into a calm but lucid sleep.

Nadiya Jones rests for the first real time in a week.


	4. Con-text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary and Kardala hash some things out.

Hey Kardala?

Yes?

you and Nad didn't get into, like, another fight, right?

 

I don't _think_ so but sometimes it is hard to tell

 

I don't think it's that hard to tell if you physically fought someone???

 

_oh_ yeah no I have not actually fought her since Dark Punch™

 

Ok

Yeah

I thought that

Something is wrong

Something was wrong

I think she's ok now???

 

okaaaaayyyyy ?

What happened??

 

Iiii

Have no fucking idea

 

was it a science thing?

 

Maybe?

 

sometimes her science things are dangerous

 

She couldn't see

Or hear

I thought she might've lost a fight or something?

 

Did she leave her lab????

Because I do not think she could fight someone from in there

 

Not that I know of

Not until after this

I kinda like

Half carried her to her room

And she freaked tf out

I have no idea what happened

 

is she better now?

 

I think so

She just

Fell asleep

 

so she is back to normal

 

Yeah

Yeah you're right

Don't know why I'm so worried

Just weird to see Nadiya of all people freak out

 

she just takes longer to freak out than most humans

 

Yeahhhh

She wasn't doing anything dangerous that you know of?

I do not know

she does not like to explain her science things to me

and also it's boring

 

I mean

You're right

Yeah

Thanks

 

you are welcome?

 

Mhm

 

...anything else?

 

........

You're sure Nadiya didn't fight someone?? Particularly you??

 

yes? I would remember if I fought her

and I do not lie

so

we did not fight

 

Yeah I entirely doubt that but ok

 

:0

:O

:OOOOOOO

are you calling me a liar???

 

You've only just realized that now?

>:OOO

hOW DARE YOU

 

I'm right

 

no you are not

I do not lie

I am a goddess why should I need to lie?

 

Well that right there is a lie so

 

it is not!

>:(

 

You can't actually think you're a goddess

Right?

 

I mean

I am

so

yes

I do

I do not see where the confusion is?

 

The confusion is that 1. You're wrong 2. You're delusional

 1. I am not 2. I AM NOT

 

Yyyeeeah sure

Whatever makes you feel better

 

>:(

Mary I know you've forgotten a lot lately but                                                                                                                                                         you are really starting to get on my nerves

 

Do _goddesses_ even have those

 

yes!!

 

And I haven't forgotten anything. Fuck off

 

yes you have but go off I guess

 

Yeah, yeah

Whatever

You're just makin shit up

_I am not but go off I guess_

 

No sane person would believe they're a _deity_

 

Well if you have a better explanation I would love to hear it

 

             You're Irene's delusional alter ego created after the hellscape that was the stimplant process

 

HAH that is a funny joke

If I were simply her "alter ego"

wouldn't we share more physical characteristics?

 

i

uh

i don't know I'm not the scientist here

 

well

I would think that logically if we were just two sides of the same person we would.

Be the same

 

i don't have any fuckin idea how stimplants work Kardala but i do know one thing

you're just a delusional idiot who fights other people so they don't question you

 I. Am. NOT

I am a GODDESS

And I have not fought anyone in a very long time

 

sure

how long ago was your fight with Nadiya?

 

Dark Punch™ was months ago

 

that's not exactly a "very long time"

but whatever

 

it is when there is absolutely nothing else to do

and I think it was during the Meat Ban™ so it felt extra long

 

seems all you ever do is try to kill Irene

 

I do not!!!

 

mhm

you're the only one who thinks that

you're the reason Nadiya is constantly worried for her life

Irene's, i mean

 

not anymore!

we have a system

we spend equal time outside

so she can do what she wants to do

no one is going to die

no one is being hurt

I would not do that

 

that's...

good

would be better if you just weren't out at all, but i digress

as nadiya has said a thousand times, humans cant just eat meat

 

well as it turns out you are the only one who thinks that so well I am not human.

Irene eats like a human when she's out, it balances.

 

now how would you explain your _host_ being a human, and you not being one

It is very ancient magic that I am not going to waste time explaining to someone who would not listen anyway

 

its bullshit and lies is what it is fucking parasite

 

what did I do to you Mary? I thought we were friends at the very least I thought we

could get along but you seem insistent on trying to start a fight with me for the

foreseeable future and I just. don't. get it. I have tried my best to figure out how to

talk to humans and work with you and understand you but no one is helping me and

no one will explain anything and nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone here and

no one will tell me why and I am SICK OF IT I AM A GODDESS AND I DEMAND RESPECT. 

_ESPECIALLY_ WHEN I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU

 

well nadiya sure seems to fucking hate you

 

she told me that that is not the case

and I do not think she was lying

 

yeah I'm sure she doesn't hate the person who tried to fucking kill her

It was _one time_ and I have apologized and we have moved past it and are friends now

 

whatever

I'm still pretty sure she fucking hates you

and she's right about most things, so

 

she said she did not and I believe her

she has no reason to lie to me

not about that anyway

ohhh yes I'm sure

 

...is that sarcasm?

 

no, I'm completely serious

of course its sarcasm

 

okay next question why do you not ever believe _me? When have I ever lied to you??_

 

you said i was your friend.

 

Because I thought we were friends

and I am sad that that is not the case

 

like hell we're _friends_

if its not apparent, _i do not like you_

 

Yes I get that now :(

 

good

maybe now you'll finally leave me the fuck alone

 

you texted me first???

 

i

yes

this one time

whatever

I'm

just stop pretending you're a _friend_

 

...it is not pretending for me

I would like to be your friend

 

yes, I'm sure its a good idea to let my guard down around the murder goddess

 

I am _not_ a murder goddess

 

you are absolutely a murder goddess

 

I am _NOT_

 

well all you ever seem to do is fight

 

I have not fought anyone without reason in a long time

 

yeah

you certainly had a reason for fighting nadiya

 

Are you talking about Dark Punch™? Because she punched me first and I could not just let that slide

 

wait

she

Started a fight?

with you?

 

yes

i still do not understand why apparently I woke her up but I did not even know

she was asleep because she never sleeps ??? you were there you should know

 

I WAS NOT. THERE.

 

yes you were you just don't remember but that's not the point

 

I'M NOT FORGETTING ANYTHING FUCK OFF

 

YES YOU ARE WHY CAN YOU NOT JUST TRUST ME? OR NADIYA? OR LITERALLY ANY

OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN TRYING TO HELP YOU??? WHAT HAVE WE DONE

THAT'S GIVEN YOU ANY REASON NOT TO BELIEVE US??? YOU CAN LOOK ON

THE YOUTUBE AND SEE THE FIGHT WITH THE KING DICK. AND MARTINE!!!!

 

I

look

I'm not putting myself at risk by trusting _anyone_

I've done that too many times already

it never ended well

so fuck off

 

what is the point of even asking me anything if you just automatically

think I'm lying? But whatever fine

good night Mary

 

whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Nadiya in this one, cool your lesbian jets.


	5. Reality, We Think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has been so long.

Mary pushed open the doors to Nadiya’s room, pricking her ears for any noise of movement, but hearing none. It had been a while since she had fallen asleep, and Mary had taken to watching over her until she woke up. She was starting to grow worried with how long Nadiya was asleep. Worried enough, now, that when she entered the room, seeing that she was still fast asleep, she sighed, making her way to the side of her bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, gently trying to shake her awake.

* * *

 

Nadiya Jones is floating in a pool on her back. Not the stereotypical American backyard pool, but more like the dead sea. It is tranquil, quiet. She can’t see where the water ends and the sky begins. She thinks she hears violins in the distance, but she cannot be certain. Wherever she is, it is calm. Nadiya Jones is flying, sitting in a paper airplane as she glides above a city skyline. She is in control, she is light. She is free. Nadiya Jones is lying on a picnic blanket, looking at the stars and holding someone’s hand. She turns her head away from the deep blue gradient of the night sky and looks at Mary, a smile forged from fondness creeping onto her face. It is cold, But Nadiya Jones does not feel it. Nadiya Jones is happy. She is not drowning. Not dying. Not lonely. Not being eaten, or fed fire, or choked, or ripped into a million pieces. Nadiya Jones feels whole.

* * *

 

“Nad? You alright?” Mary asked. She tried to not let her worry show in her voice. The last thing Nadiya needed right now was to be worried. She gently took hold of her wrists, rubbing her thumb back and forth across the artery. She did feel bad, waking her up like this, as she looked so peaceful, but it was probably better to check that she was alright. She could go back to bed after that.

* * *

 

Nad? You alright? she hears as she lies there, content. “I’m fine,” she replies. “How’re you holdin’ up?” Mary Sage gives Nadiya Jones a look that could burn through steel, and Nadiya laughs. “Yeah, yeah. We’re both used to being up super late.” “I’m fine, I’m just dying to see this meteor shower you’ve been incapable of shutting up about,” Mary huffs. “It’ll happen soon,” Nadiya chuckles. “Just be patient.” She leans over and kisses Mary softly on the forehead. “Love you.” “Love you too, dork,” Mary snarks without a hint of venom in her voice. Nadiya Jones grins and turns her gaze skyward.

* * *

 

“What was that all about, anyways?” Mary questions, keeping her gaze back on Nadiya. She remembered last night vividly. Holding Nadiya’s weak form in her arms, stroking her soft, if not messy, hair. She was a lot more threatening when she was awake, Mary mused. But, oddly enough, she didn’t feel the instinct to flee or act aggressive. She had gone into Nadiya’s lab the night before.. and left of her own free will. Maybe that had something to do with it? Regardless of the cause, her body language was still tense, but her expression was more of that of a spooked horse than a cat thrown into a lake.

* * *

 

What was all that about, anyway?

Nadiya Jones is confused.

“The meteor shower, babe. C’mon. You said it yourself.”

What— all— ab— any–ay? Nadiya Jones is scared. “Mary? Are you alright? Mary? Mary?!” The hand Nadiya Jones was holding disappears as the night turns blood red, and stars begin falling from the sky. Something’s wrong. Where is Mary? Where is she, for that matter?

Nadiya Jones is sinking into the ground, now dead and parched, fighting to sit up. She feels weird oily hands grabbing her wrists in what is a sick perversion of a soothing gesture- Nadiya Jones is surrounded by inky, vile, blackness filled with whispers. As she looks around, eyes start opening around her, glaring at her. Mouths start to manifest, shrieking and chanting and whispering and yelling: (useless she’s useless no one wants her she is nothing she does not belong here she does not belong anywhere she does not even belong with us she is nothing and she does not deserve to exist and)

Nadiya Jones is crying out for Mary. Where is she? Nadiya can’t see her, but she hears her voice among the cacophony of cruelty, screaming for Nadiya. In pain. (Nadiya Jones may not be worth saving, but damn her, if she wasn’t going to get Mary out of here she might as well be as useless as the voices say.)

Nadiya Jones takes off running, calling to Mary, who calls back. She runs and runs. And makes it to her just in time to see Mary crumple to her knees, impaled by a spear of living ink.

Nadiya Jones can’t even run to her. Through some cruel twist of fate, no matter how hard she tries to move, she remains in the same spot.

Nadiya Jones watches Mary Sage bleed out on the ground, five feet in front of her. She can’t take any more. Nadiya Jones screams.

* * *

 

Meteor shower? She, can’t remember anything about a meteor shower. Was there one coming up? She didn’t know. She hadn’t heard anything.

She could feel Nadiya’s wrist start to shake in her grip, and she let go immediately, watching it fall to the bed. 

She looks panicked, now. Brow furrowing, teeth clenched, tears beading at the edge of her eyes and beginning to fall. 

Mary had had her fair share of hallucinations. Like hell Nadiya was going through the same thing.

She moved up further onto the bed, placing her hands squarely on Nadiya’s shoulders and shaking, desperately. 

This was wrong. This was wrong. Something was wrong. She hated not knowing what.

All apprehension towards Nadiya dissipated like sugar in water as she shook her-

Mary’s heart skipped a beat.

Nadiya’s bloodcurdling scream tore through the room, and she forced memories of the broadcast from her mind. “Nadiya! Nadiya! Get up! Get the hell up!”

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is taken from Tally Hall's Spring And A Storm. Joe Hawley is god.


End file.
